The centaur chief and Verc fought with all their might for hours; their exchanges were fierce that the bystander warriors couldn’t even dare to interfere.
The raw intensity of their confrontation had effectively locked down the entire central district of the settlement, transforming the open area into a highly volatile zone where loose rock, broken wood posts, and stray bursts of mana energy flew through the air continuously. The others could only watch from the absolute safety of the far perimeter structures, their hands trembling against the handles of their standard spears as they witnessed a level of violence that completely surpassed their normal understanding of tribal warfare.
Every single forward thrust from the chief’s heavy axe generated a howling wind that tore across the packed earth, while Verc’s blade answered with a sharp, high-pitched chime that echoed off the distant treeline like a continuous thunderstorm.
But alas—when the sun fell and the moon came out...
Verc’s restriction on his powers were lifted.
The heavy, oppressive weight that the direct daylight usually forced upon his physical systems vanished in an instant, allowing his unique vampiric biology to unlock its full potential without any environmental interference.
They’ve been fighting for a long time; so the centaur chief was already tired when this happened.
The massive beastman’s chest was heaving with deep, ragged breaths, his large forelegs coated in a thick layer of sweat and dirt as the continuous expenditure of his heavy combat mana began to severely drain his physical reserves. He had been forced to maintain an absolute, unbroken level of maximum concentration for hours just to keep pace with Verc’s irregular movements, leaving his muscular frame running on nothing but pure willpower.
Meanwhile, Verc still had a lot of stored stamina from drinking a lot of monster blood before the expedition and on the way ehre; he can still continue fighting for days or even a week!
The physical fatigue that normally accumulated within simply didn’t apply to him, his core constantly recycling the deep reserves of blood energy to keep his limbs perfectly fresh.
Also, both of them only managed to deal small wounds on each other, but Verc was healing mid-fight automatically because of his vampiric vitality and his stored up stamina.
Every minor scratch, surface abrasion, or shallow cut that the chief’s heavy axe managed to leave on his body would immediately seal itself within a matter of seconds, the flesh knitting back together smoothly without leaving a single permanent mark.
The centaur chief who had been piling up small injuries one after another—
His own wounds were not healing at all, the long slices along his shoulders, flanks, and hindquarters continuing to leak small amounts of crimson fluid that slowly sapped his remaining strength with every heavy step he took.
He had no chance of winning against Verc when he couldn’t even beat him while he was under the restriction of the sun.
... ... ...
... ... ...
... ... ...
"You’re strong."
Verc stated, looking at the kneeling centaur chief.
His words were genuine. He truly respected the incredible structural endurance and raw martial skill the western king had demonstrated throughout the long afternoon, recognizing that very few individuals in the region could have survived that long against his blade.
They were still eye-to-eye.
Even though the chief was brought down to his knees, his massive stature still allowed him to maintain a direct line of sight with the upright Verc, their gazes locking in the quiet area.
The centaur chief looked back at Verc.
"Was I the strongest enemy you’ve ever faced?"
He asked.
The question was delivered with a low, rough rumble, his pride demanding to know his exact standing within the hierarchy of power that this mysterious southern ruler had encountered.
"No."
And immediately; Verc answered with that.
There was not a single second of hesitation in his response, his voice completely flat as he delivered the truth without any intention of softening the blow to the chief’s pride.
For him—the lich was the strongest he ever fought.
He also thinks that Kael or Elianna using their holy power to the max will be harder to fight than the centaur chief.
The concentrated, burning energy of the high-tier church knights carried a natural elemental advantage against his vampiric nature that would always represent a far more dangerous threat than any amount of physical muscle or heavy iron axes.
"I see."
The centaur chief felt absurd hearing that answer, he can feel that no lie were also told to him.
The complete lack of deceit in Verc’s expression made the statement incredibly heavy, forcing the chief to realize that the peak of power he had achieved over centuries was merely a mid-tier obstacle to the entity before him.
And so, opening his mouth—
"Lower your weapons, he’s nowhere near exhaustion. You can’t fight him."
He ordered that.
"...!"
His words rang through the surrounding; making the centaur warriors who were planning to gang-up on Verc freeze and stop.
The archers who had been notched to their arrows slowly lowered their bows, their knuckles turning white as they looked from their defeated chief to the pale intruder who still looked as if he hadn’t even begun to fight seriously.
"That’s a wise choice."
Verc said.
He was ready to cut down at least half of the centaur tribe’s population in case they still chose to fight.
But that massacre was prevented because of the centaur chief’s decision.
"We surrender."
THUD!
The centaur chief then let his whole body fall to the dirt, and bowing his head to Verc—he declared that.
"Chief!"
"!!!"
The nearby warriors were surprised by this, they shouted at his decision.
A collective wave of grief and disbelief washed over the younger generation of hunters, their voices cracking as they witnessed the absolute submission of the man who had represented the peak of western strength for as long as they had been alive.
Though—even them know that they can’t do anything against the pale invader if even their chief couldn’t fight him.
And so... they just shut their mouths and accepted the decision made by their leader.
"..."
"..."
The shouting died down into a heavy, mournful silence that was only broken by the sound of the wind moving through the tall grass outside the perimeter.
They all let their weapons fall onto the ground—CLANK!
The iron tips and wooden shafts clattered against the stones in a continuous, disorganized rhythm as every single active guard threw away their means of defense.
And following the centaur chief; they all kneeled down and bowed their head as well.
Row after row of massive horse bodies lowered themselves into the dirt, their postures perfectly mimicking the total submission of their chief.
"..."
Verc was silent at this sight.
He stood perfectly still in the center of the kneeling army, his red eyes scanning the wide perimeter as the initial dust clouds finally settled under the silver moonlight.
By now, all the centaurs are here because they had all arrived while they were fighting for hours.
The entire community had gathered around the central square during the later stages of the duel, creating a dense, massive circle of over two hundred individuals who were now completely quiet.
He looked at the over 200 centaurs surrendering.
The sheer scale of the submission was impressive, the absolute discipline they displayed even in defeat showing a level of societal structure that was far superior to the chaotic behavior of regular monster clans.
He was impressed with how much they follow their leader.
’I guess they didn’t survive and rule the west with pure strength. With their small number, their trust with the leader and coordination with each other was really important.’
Verc thought, analyzing a bit.
He looked back at the centaur chief, he was now looking down at him as he had his head bowed.
The centaur chief remained perfectly motionless in the dirt, his posture awaiting the final judgment of the conqueror who had dismantled his legacy in a single afternoon.
Verc smiled, and with his lips parting—
"Be my direct subordinate and I will give you more power."
He said that, straight and casual.
The offer was made without any complicated conditions or grand speeches, delivered with the exact same simple clarity that defined all of his administrative decisions back at the village.
"Huh?"
The centaur chief was confused when he heard this, he looked back up to face Verc.
And as soon as he did—SLASH!
Verc cut open a wound on his palm with [Moon Blade].
"Drink my blood."
He said, placing his bleeding palm in front of the centaur chief.
He extended his arm downward, allowing the heavy drops of essence to hover right before the old ruler’s lips, the unique, sweet aroma of his high-tier life force instantly filling the small space between them.
"..."
The centaur chief was frozen; his eyes were locked onto the blood in front of him.
He could feel the immense, raw potential vibrating within the dark fluid.
He knows that if he drink it—then he wouldn’t be able to break free from Verc’s grasp ever again.
But at the same time... he knows that he will also have a power he couldn’t even dare to reach with his current self.
The bottleneck that had restricted his physical and magical development for the past fifty years could be completely shattered by the introduction of this supreme evolutionary catalyst, allowing him to protect his tribe on a whole new scale.
Time seemed frozen for the two of them.
The silver moonlight hung heavily over the broken square, casting long, dramatic shadows across the silent ranks of the kneeling tribe.
Even the nearby centaur warriors looked at Verc and their chief.
They held their breath, their eyes wide as they realized that the future destination of their entire race was being decided by the single choice their leader was about to make.
But then, not even a minute later—
The cenataur chief let out a long, slow breath through his nostrils, the lingering hesitation within his posture completely vanishing as he reached his final conclusion.
"..."
A resolute look appeared on his face.
He understood that true survival in this cursed forest required the strength to adapt to a greater power, and this southern lord had already proven himself to be a master worthy of his lineage’s respect.
So without a word or warning—SSLLP—GULP!
He leaned his large upper body forward, closing his jaws around Verc’s bleeding hand.
He accepted Verc’s offer.
The dark, potent essence flowed directly down his throat, instantly triggering a massive reaction within his core.